Book Collecting: A Guide for Amateurs

by J. Herbert Slater

But Naudé had the wealth of Mazarin at his back, and free licence to purchase as and where he would at the Cardinal's expense, while Heber was rich beyond the dreams of avarice; the modern book hunter, whose means we will suppose are limited, must discard the yard measure and the scales, and rely on his judgment, taking care to get the utmost value for his money. He will have to make up his mind to buy or not to buy on the spur of the moment, for while he is consulting his books of reference at home, a golden opportunity may be missed. This is his capital difficulty, and one which it will take years of experience to surmount, for there is no vade mecum capable of being carried in the waistcoat pocket, which will enable him to spot a rarity at a glance; nothing, in fact, which can compensate for a lack of practical knowledge. I have often thought that a register of scarce but mean-looking English books, of such a convenient size as to be carried in the palm of the hand, might be of assistance to those who haunt the stalls, and delve among the rubbish usually to be found there; some day, perhaps, it may be worth while to try the experiment, sed Gloria, quantalibet quid erit; si gloria tantum est? What will be the value of ever so much glory, if it be glory and nothing else?

In turning over the contents of an old book-stall, the major portion of the heap will be found to consist of volumes of sermons, and other theological treatises, recipe books, odd historical volumes, and poetical effusions, besides periodical literature of the Spectator and Tatler brand. Books of this class are, as a rule, merely rubbish; but still there are a few exceptions. Sermons of John Knox and Dr. Sacheverell, or any of Mather's tracts, are invariably worth purchasing; as also are first editions of sermons by Cardinals Manning or Newman. Early editions of Mrs. Glasse's cookery book, or any recipe books of the seventeenth century, may safely be speculated in; so may early editions of poetical works, if written by authors whose reputation subsequently became established. Third, fourth, or later editions are seldom of much value, no matter who the author may be, and no matter of what character or description, provided they come under one or other of the heads enumerated above. In purchasing books of the class generally found on second-hand stalls, there are two preliminary questions to be asked: first, was the author of sufficient reputation to make his name well known? and secondly, is the particular copy of his works offered for sale an early edition? If an affirmative answer can be given to each of these inquiries, it will be advisable to tender the small sum likely to be asked, and to run the risk.

Another point to be observed is that where a printer's device appears on the title-page, or indeed on any other part of an old book, it is more likely than not to have a value, and it ought never to be passed over without a careful scrutiny.

Should the collector be fortunate enough to pick up a rare French book, his best policy will be to have it suitably bound in France by a first-rate binder. Though already valuable, its importance will be still further increased by this manœuvre; for when the inevitable day of parting shall arrive, the French bibliophiles will be more inclined to welcome native talent than any English imitation of it.

Volumes containing separate tracts should always be examined, as it sometimes happens that rare pieces are found bound up with a mass of worthless matter. I once heard of original editions of two of Molière's plays being found in this way; and as these stand pretty much in the same position, so far as rarity and consequent value is concerned, to the early Shakespearean quartos, the importance of the "find" to the lucky discoverer can hardly be exaggerated. This is only another example of the rule which can never be too often repeated, since it can never be sufficiently understood. If the author is "big enough," and the edition is early enough, buy. The probability is you may not realise the full importance of what you have got until you have had time to consult some book of reference; it may indeed turn out that a wretched and dirty reprint has done duty for the original, or it may so be that the book is worthless on its merits. This is one of the risks of book collecting, and, it may be added, one of its charms. Hundreds of thousands of dead and forgotten books must be annually disposed of, for nominal sums, in London alone, and there is no telling how often these and others may have been turned over and flung aside by passers-by before they eventually find a market. Among all this profusion of rubbish, a certain percentage of valuable pieces must necessarily exist, and these, from the very circumstances under which they are offered for sale, will be unknown, and more or less unbound and uncut. Every year some of these princes in disguise are rescued from the wind and rain, and henceforth considered a fair exchange for gold instead of copper; but alas! we cannot both eat our cake and have it too. "Finds," as they are called, are not so numerous as they once were, nor hucksters so ignorant as in the merry days of Dibdin and Burton, to say nothing of such foreign Nimrods as Colbert, Grolier, and the great Pixérécourt.

The same rules which guide the haunter of the stalls are suitable to those who purchase from the regular booksellers. There is so much to be learned, so many artificial rules and distinctions to be observed in everything relating to books, that mistakes are of frequent occurrence. Ignorant assistants have before now unwittingly thrown shabby little books, like Burns' Poems (Kilmarnock, 1786), into the sixpenny-box at the shop door; others have been too lazy to sort the "parcels" as they have come in from the auctioneers, and have bundled the whole contents into the same repository. There are a hundred and one accidents in favour of the book hunter, but he needs experience in order to take advantage of them, and this cannot be got without the expenditure of much time and money and the suffering of many disappointments, which, indeed, seem to increase as he grows older, rather than to diminish. This is doubtless because the sphere of his operations becomes wider until it exceeds that of his experience; the seventh age of the Bibliophile is even as his first.

Apart from the books which are fashionable for the time being and invariably command fancy prices, there are others which may be styled "standards," that is to say, are sold over and over again, both by auction and private contract, for sums which vary only according to condition. These for the most part are in several volumes, 8vo, frequently also in 4to or folio. Their very appearance precludes any prospect of a bargain; indeed the purchaser, unless well versed in book-lore, stands a very good chance of paying for mere bulk. When the library at Sion College took fire, the attendants at the risk of their lives rescued a pile of books from the flames, and it is said that the librarian wept when he found that the porters had taken it for granted that the value of a book was in exact proportion to its size. To this day the impression that big books contain wisdom is all but universal. This has always been so, as witness the temporary reputation of Nicholas de Lyra, who wrote and printed 1800 folios of Commentary on the Bible, and of Aldrovandus, whose thirteen large folio volumes on General Zoology (1599-1668) have greatly perplexed the scientific world ever since they were published. Let not the collector be led away by massive tomes, nor imagine that standard works of acknowledged reputation can often be got for less than they are worth.

Of late years there has been a violent competition for books and even tracts published in or in any way relating to the American Continent provided only that they were published during the sixteenth, seventeenth, and sometimes also the eighteenth centuries. Thus Cotton's Abstract of the Laws of New England, 1641; The Description of Jamaica, 1657; Brereton's Relation of the Discoverie of the North Part of Virginia, 1602, and many other obscure little 4to tracts—not books—would be cheap at twenty guineas each, while others are worth even more. American collectors are largely responsible for this. In the same way treatises of any kind which have a Scotch local interest, and are dated about the same period, are always worth two or three guineas at the least, and in many cases far more than those amounts.

The earliest book printed in Scotland is The Knightly Tale of Golagrus and Gawane and other ancient poems (Edinburgh, 1508), 4to, which was reprinted in fac-simile under the superintendence of Dr. Laing in 1827. As might be expected, the original is so scarce as to be unprocurable, and even the reprint is of considerable value. Early Scotch-printed books by such workmen as Walter Chepman, Androu Myllar, Andro Hart, Alexander Arbuthnot, Thomas Davidson, Anthony Marlar, James Watson, Andrew Anderson and his widow the would-be monopolist, Robert Freebairn, and several others, some of whom carried on business into the eighteenth century, should never be overlooked or discarded. These are just the kind of books which are occasionally discovered on stalls in obscure streets, and which may be expected to be bought for a few pence. They are scarce, of course, or it would not be worth while to mention them; but they look insignificant, and many, for anything I know, may this very day be making their weary pilgrimage on costermongers' barrows in the New Cut, despised and rejected of men.

Specimens of typography from the presses of Caxton, Wynkyn de Worde, and other early English printers, some of which have already been mentioned, are essentially curiosities, and it is almost useless to hope for even the semblance of a bargain so far as they are concerned. Still, occasional finds are from time to time reported from out-of-the-way villages whose inhabitants have not yet wakened from their mediæval slumbers, and great is the rejoicing of the explorer, and many the paragraphs with which the discovery is heralded in the newspapers. The collector who is fortunate enough to come across a work of this class—he can hardly expect a repetition of such extraordinary luck—will have crowned his labours, be they great or small, and can henceforth pride himself on his success. If he never handles a book again, he will have earned his laurels.